Defender of the Lost
by Angel46
Summary: An ancient seraphim is sent to help Angel defend LA from an even older evil. But the evil of mortal sin taints all. Can this heavenly being resist the dangers and ecstacies of humanity, and still complete its mission?
1. The Guide

**Prologue: Transformation**  
  
A lone figure stood motionless on a hill, surveying the City of The Angels. How fitting that it now returned to a namesake, for defense of eternity. The darkness of the night both shrouded and glorified the warrior, servant of the Powers That Be, and an Innocent, as yet uncorrupted by the strains of evil seductively floating on the breeze. But alas, it would not be so for long. No creature, whether mortal or immortal, could remain among the Glorified once tainted by the Oldest and Darkest Evil which resided deep within the lights of the sinful city. The seraph's silvery wings rustled softly in the wind as the immortal listened impassively to the gentle song of the stars, reflecting upon the sacrifices essential for this humanity...this species which so willingly aided the Dark ones. It did not understand why those Above would not simply let these ones dissolve into oblivion. But it was not Its place to question, only to protect. Stretching forth Its hand, a heavenly light surrounded Its body like a holy veil, lovingly wrapped around a bride-to-be. In a matter of moments, It was stripped of Its glory and re-equipped with a flawed, human body; constricting and binding. So began the Sacrifice.  
  
**Chapter One: The Guide  
**  
A cloudy afternoon gave way to rain as the sole defender of Los Angeles strode through the streets; a vampire, named Angel. His dark chocolate hair matched the hue of his eyes, and attracted him more than a few longing stares, which were easily ignored by the immortal. The gentle rain accompanied his footsteps to his offices, where the phone rang a total of two times before Cordelia snatched it up with a perky greeting. Angel walked upstairs and into the room just as Cordelia hung up, looking disgusted. "Telemarketer." She said, by way of explanation for not speaking longer. "Find any new contracts?" She asked hopefully, eyes shining with the hope of another payment to their defense-for-hire company.  
  
He shook his head, wiping some of the water droplets from his forehead, "None." A particularly nasty crash of thunder followed his words, concealing an ominous creaking of a door being opened downstairs. Angel heard, but did not go to check it out, assuming it was either another potential client, or a lost tourist. His leather jacket squeaked when he moved, so he took it off, not above becoming annoyed by the constant squeals of protest. The thunder crashed again, and all was silent. No footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs, so it seemed all was well. "I'm going to go make some coffee." He commented, striding past Cordelia. Man, how he loved rainy days. It shielded Angel from the sun's harmful rays well enough that he could stay outside, among the living, all days if he chose. It was a nice feeling.  
  
"Hey, get me some too, will ya? I'm wiped--" The rest of her sentence was cut off by an obnoxious yawn, and then an unnatural silence fell. "Um–Angel?" Said Cordelia from the other room, chair groaning as she stood up, "I think you might want to see this client." Her liquid brown eyes were wide as she took in the appearance of the dripping newcomer. As her gaze traveled further on the person, she abruptly turned away, shielding her eyes, caught between a laugh and calling the police. "Um–On second thought, maybe you better just stay in there." A young woman stood in the doorway, soaking wet and completely, well, naked.  
  
"What is it now?" Grumbled Angel, plunking his mug down on the counter and turning to backtrack to Cordy. Her next exclamation only intensified his curiosity, so with an annoyed sigh, he strode back into the office and abruptly wished he hadn't. Like Cordelia, he averted his eyes, struggling for words, "Uh–miss–you seem to be--" He paused, not really wanting to be the one to say something so obvious, and yet so embarrassing. Immortals, it seemed, were prey for such emotions as well.  
  
Cordelia, on the other hand, had no such restraints. "You're nude!" She burst out angrily, throwing Angel's discarded jacket at her. "Put that on!" It took a moment, but the newcomer finally managed to comply, seeming to be confused in how to properly wear it. The garment was fortunately long enough to cover anything improper, so both the seer and vampire were able to look more analytically on this strange persona. An indignant rage welled up in Cordelia and she jabbed an accusing finger in the young woman's face, "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but streaking is crime for everybody in the USA! If you think you can just waltz in here and--"  
  
The girl tilted her head to one side, and the angry words rolled off of her exterior like the rain outside did on the greased trash cans. "Are you Angel?" She asked, looking at Cordelia with a curious air of innocence. Her hair, which was nearly platinum-blonde even while wet, gave nearly no contrast at all to her pale skin. The only thing that didn't seem washed out or white on her body was her eyes, which were a serene blue. It was only natural to believe that she was mentally deranged or delusional, but something about the way she carried herself, like a regal noble, somehow gave an abstract basis for her sanity.  
  
The ensoulled vampire gave the naive streaker one of his trademark looks of cynicism, and cut Cordelia off, "No." He said dryly, "I am. What do you want, and...where the heck are your clothes?" As though not really hearing what either of them said, the girl looked out the window, shivering at an invisible evil that no one else could see. After a tense moment, Cordelia impatiently snapped her fingers in front of her face. She flinched visibly, and blinked in bewilderment at Cordelia, then at Angel.  
  
"I come, sent by the Powers That Be, to seek the leader of the sole guardians of this city of Lost Angels; humanity's last hope against the forces and principalities of darkness--" Abruptly, she sneezed, ruining the solemnity of the moment. The irate Cordelia stifled a smile, not so sure that the young girl had gone 'streaking' on purpose...that is if she were telling the truth. After wiping her nose ruefully, the woman continued, "I have no clothes, as I have never had need for them. Glorified beings have never been required to take on corporeal form before." Her tone stiffened, as did her posture, at this last statement.  
  
Angel felt the urge to snap off another witty comment, but elected not to. However, he could not resist a faint smirk, "So, you're telling me that the PTB need yet another miracle to save the world...and they want me to pull this off?" When she nodded her assent, he continued, "And you are a non- corporeal being. Right?" Again, she nodded. In a sudden fit of displeasure and sullenness, Angel sneered, "Go ask Buffy, the slayer. She's the one who's always saving the world, and stopping apocalypse's of the like. I've got other fish to fry."He expected a feeling of pleasure from seeing the shock and dismay mirrored in her twin blue eyes, but instead felt abruptly and thoroughly guilty.  
  
Cordelia obviously disapproved, and glared pointedly at him as she took the girl's arm, leading her into the back rooms, "Come on. We'll find you some proper clothes to wear, and then talk about saving the world." When they left, Angel sat down in Cordelia's vacated chair, massaging his forehead in annoyance. Business as usual in the City of Angels... 


	2. The Name

** Chapter Two: The Name**  
  
After what seemed like an amazingly long time to Angel, the two women re- entered the room(Thankfully, fully clothed). "It's about time." He said distinctly from his position behind the desk, spinning slowly in the chair. "Geez, do all women take that long to get dressed?" He was silenced by yet another look from Cordelia, and backed off on his surprisingly sarcastic stance. He didn't understand why he was so touchy around this newcomer, only that he felt exceedingly guilty and defensive when she fixed him with one of her questioning gazes that contained an impossible innocence.  
  
Cordelia scowled and replied, "I don't know, Angel. When I find out, you'll be the first to know." A healthy dose of sarcasm wasn't missing from her statement and, honestly, Angel didn't blame her. "Anyways, we have a problem. She doesn't have a name." It was a source of amazement to Angel that Cordelia didn't seem too unnerved by all this. Of course, he supposed, he really shouldn't be either. After all, he had a couple good centuries on the seer; he should have more stamina in things such as this.  
  
"Well, name her then. What's the big deal?"  
  
"I already have a name!" Insisted the girl indignantly.  
  
"Then what is it?" Cordelia questioned in a monotone, rolling her eyes, having heard this response a million times before.  
  
A long silence ensued, and the higher being-turned-mortal sounded sulky when she finally spoke, "You couldn't possibly pronounce it in your tongue." The remaining silence was palpable, broken only when Angel couldn't restrain his laughter from rolling out into the open. The girl looked at him, the unnerving quality of her gaze lost in bewilderment and confusion. "What makes you express yourself in such a way? Have you found something to be of amusement?"  
  
When Angel had finished, he cleared his throat and smiled at her, now knowing that she told the truth about herself. The naivete proved it all. "No. It's nothing. I've decided to help you after all, on one condition: even though you've got a name, you have to go by one that we can actually pronounce here on earth–Got it?" After a tense moment, she nodded slowly.  
  
"So what will you call me, then?" Her head tilted to one side, wet, platinum hair slipping off her shoulder. Angel studied her for a second, taking in her appearance. The former seraph actually wasn't that pretty, but she had an air of innocent empathy exuding from every pore, and so it made her washed out features all that more extraordinary. A swift glance sideways passed the responsibility to Cordelia, who was rendered silent for the first time in 30 minutes.  
  
"Uhhmm..." Came the extremely articulate response, "I don't know...Jane?" The gleam in the girl's and Angel's eyes was all the answer she required. "Okay, not Jane." The girl grew more impatient and antsy as the seconds ticked by, and Angel couldn't help but noticing how terrible she was at hiding emotions and such. Finally, he intervened.  
  
"Caitir." It was a name from the far past, once common in the land that the Celts occupied. "It–It means pure." He shrugged off any questioning looks, "I figured it suited her." Angel felt satisfied when Caitir smiled distantly and nodded, accepting his choice. The rain continued to beat steadily on the window, reminiscent of the grey interior of so many souls.  
  
Caitir suddenly snapped her gaze from the window and onto Cordelia's eyes, sensing a foreign presence invading the seer's mind. A sharp cry of warning was torn from her lips as Cordelia's back suddenly arched, mouth open in a silent scream of pain. A type of seizure convulsed her slender frame, and thrust images of the future into her mind, laying bare what was to come. Angel held Cordelia's body so she didn't thrash about into the furniture and hurt herself, but he couldn't stop the vision she was being given.  
  
Moving pictures flashed into her mind, unseen by all around her. The vision started with a picture of the back of a very blond girl, chatting amiably with someone at a bar...There it was! A name...a flash of a sign...there! Caritas! And a clock above the bar...11 pm, on the dot...Then the flash was gone and it showed a blurred demon, dragging someone out the back. It was almost hidden from her view because of two people chatting in her line of vision. A few more seconds passed, and the sight fades to white, leaving a serpent hissing and coiling...rearing back...ready to strike! And then Cordelia opened her eyes, looking up at the two anxious faces above her. Gently, Angel helped her to sit up, brown eyes searching her own worriedly. "What did you see?" 


	3. The Tempter

**Chapter Three: The** **Tempter  
**  
Later, a few hours after the sun had set, the trio exited their headquarters, already knowing where to watch for the attack. After all, Caritas was where the Host was located, and where they frequently went for guidance...along with a few drinks on the side. "Angel." Hissed Cordelia from the passenger side of the car, "Shouldn't we go get Wesley or Gunn? I think they'd want in on this too..."  
  
Angel shook his head once, turning the wheel with a practiced hand, "They're taking a break. I don't want to bug them about something as routine as this." Wesley and Gunn had been on their much needed vacation for a little less than a week now, and it was annoying the heck out of Angel, who was used to their constant company. Cordelia was alright...but she was Cordelia for Pete's sake! He didn't know of anyone alive on this planet that could put up with her alone for any amount of time.  
  
Caitir quietly sat in the back, pondering her very near future. She knew she had arrived in the right place, but so far she didn't seem to be doing anything but causing dead weight. What did the Powers expect her to do without her battling capabilities? Of course she still had empathy and the ability to sense evil when others could not...but they wouldn't save her life if it came down to it. And how did they expect her to protect the human race from evil if she couldn't even manage a simple summoning of a weapon? This mission seemed nearly impossible–but then her thoughts were interrupted as the vehicle parked a block or two away from Caritas.  
  
"Here we are." Commented Angel unnecessarily, glancing at the other two passengers, "Cordelia, you come with me...just...put Caitir somewhere that she won't get into trouble. I don't need to be rescuing more than one victim; especially one that wasn't in danger in the first place." He opened his door and stepped out, ambling over to the entrance to wait for the only seer on his team of ragtag fighters.  
  
Cordelia scowled after him, then glanced back at Caitir. The seraph glowered at her, "Don't even think about leaving me behind in this–this–thing! I'm going inside as well." The car unnerved her, for all its rattling and bouncing and cavorting around. As a point of fact, everything about this human world unnerved her; its food, its people, and especially its transportation. Caitir didn't trust one thing about this race, and would've liked nothing better than to fly away and leave its smelly streets and polluted souls in her dust.  
  
Cordelia sighed and nodded, "Fine, you can wait at the bar. Just–don't get into trouble. Got it? No smack-downs on people just because they look at you funny."An affirmative nod was all the response she could elicit from the newly made mortal, so she exited the car and followed Angel inside, taking a detour to seat Caitir at the bar, near the clock she had seen in the vision. "Here," She pressed a five dollar bill into Caitir's petite hand, "Buy a drink or whatever. This won't take long." Without waiting for a response, Cordelia left her to join Angel in his wait for the demon. The time was 20 minutes to eleven...  
  
The dark haired man beside her ordered a drink, and then cast an appraising eye over her figure and features. His expression was one of faint approval, although Caitir had no idea why. "What's your name?" He asked when she glanced at him out of sheer discomfort. He was dressed in a mildly rumpled business suit, and his scent was that of alcohol mixed with a brand of Old Spice.  
  
Caitir wrinkled her nose and sneezed loudly when someone nearby began smoking, replying with a slightly rueful look, "I'm called Caitir." The bartender pushed a glass full of clear liquid at her, and she picked it up cautiously, sniffing it delicately. "What do you call this?" She tasted it hesitantly. It was bland, but cool and refreshing. She immediately decided she liked this substance as opposed to the coffee she had been subjected to earlier that morning.  
  
The bartender raised both of his bushy eyebrows at her and commented in a gravelly voice, "I call it tap water, compliments of the sink. You don't look like you can stomach a beer, let alone a pop." He walked away, wiping his sweaty hands off on his stained jeans as he filled another order for some other customer.  
  
He listened to the bartender, and laughed loudly. The man gave her the most charming smile he could manage while severely drunk and replied, "Caitir? That's a pretty name. I'm Lindsey." His seafoam eyes, although glazed over with intoxication, were still entrancing to the formerly immortal seraph. "I haven't seen you in here before. You just start coming tonight?" Caitir stared openly at him for a moment, then nodded in that matter-of- fact way she had recently adopted, complete with a touch of naivete. "I came with two others. They are somewhere else in this...Caritas." For a moment, her crystal clear eyes scanned around the large area, searching for the two crime fighters who had seen fit to leave her somewhere 'safe'. Then, she saw Angel and Cordelia going after a shadowy figure in the back doorway, "I'm with them."  
  
Lindsey pretended to dismiss this information with another gulp of his drink. "Is that right?" He asked casually, recognizing them despite his intoxication. What would she be doing with them? Something worth discovering, certainly. An annoying buzzing sensation interrupted them from his coat pocket, and he pulled out a furiously ringing pager which read: URGENT MEETING: 7:30 AM TOMORROW AT HOLLAND'S OFFICE. He glanced at the clock on the wall through blurred eyes and noted the time was 11:00. Lindsey nearly cursed, but the curious gleam in his bar companion's eyes froze it in his mouth. "I've got a meeting tomorrow, so I oughta get going." He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a business card without a second thought, scrawling a number on the back. "Call me later. We can do lunch, maybe."  
  
Caitir accepted the piece of paper curiously, looking at the scrawled numbers with curiousity. "Call you?" She asked, not entirely sure what he meant. It was amazing at times how powerful she once was, and yet so naive she had turned out to be. The clock ticked cheerfully until it reached a minute past 11.  
  
Lindsey nodded, "Yeah, anytime." He spotted Angel and Cordelia rapidly approaching out of the crowd, and took to his heels, stumbling his way out the door. Caitir watched him go, noting with a mild amount of annoyance that for some odd reason, her heart was beating irregularly. Was it the presence of the human named Lindsey, or something else? Regardless, the deed they had come to prevent had been handled.  
  
Cordelia reached her first and tugged gently on Caitir's elbow, "Come on, we're done. Let's go find a place for you to crash." Her eyes caught onto the number on the blank back of the card, and she laughed, "Got yourself a beau already, huh? Time to go, lover girl." It would have been to everyone's benefit if she had flipped the card over and seen to whom it belonged, but fate didn't twist that way. For whatever obscure reason, it was slipped into Caitir's pocket, an innocent seeming instrument of destruction. 


End file.
